CLEAN VER. >>3625613

The Berry Sisters had lost all track of time in their padded cell in the asylum. Cherry Berry brooded in a haze of delirium beneath layers of binding canvas and sense-depriving leather. She gave a pathetic muffled sigh into the tubelike gag that filled her mouth. It must have been some sort of tranquilizers the staff put into the foal-food they’ve been funneling into her that are making her so docile. She was beginning to have trouble keeping her eyes open, not that it mattered with the leather hood covering her entire head, leaving only two tiny grommets for her nostrils to breathe through. Combine this with the built-in earplugs, and her life had been plunged into near silence and complete darkness for Celestia-knows how long.

She lightly shuffled her canvas-encased body, her forelegs kept in a perpetual self-hug by the straitjacket sleeves. Her canvas-socked hind legs were left free from bindings, granted the overly padded diaper around her bottom made using them nearly impossible. She couldn’t even remember why she and her sister were here to begin with. Was it something to do with that new friend that Berry Punch had been getting close with? That pony with the suspiciously… prehensile mane? And those eyes of her’s. Those eyes that seem to contain an entire universe in their depths. Eyes that beckon, that command your very soul to leap into the void. A void that was a alive with an infinity of writhing---

Cherry was pulled from her stupor by the faint sound of muffled yells and struggling in front of her. Even with her senses nearly shut down, she could tell it was her sister having another spasm. She must not be taking this kind of bondage well, as she could hear a lot of pained grunting and pounding on the padded floor. Cherry remembers struggling as well when she first woke up in this purgatory. Screaming into her gagged muzzle, dragging her bound body across the floor, kicking her socked legs in vain against the padded walls. It was only when she got a whiff of the mane of her cellmate that she felt even a glint of comfort that at least her sister was there with her. Even though, deep down, Cherry believes their current incarceration must be the fault of her inebriated sibling, she still took comfort in cuddling their bound bodies together in their shared isolation.

However, a distinctly different odor filled the nostril holes of the bound mare. The heavy, foul stench of a bowel movement made Cherry reel in disgust, regretting that the only way she could breathe was through her nose. Guess the asylum’s mushy diet had finally caught up with Berry Punch, as she awkwardly forced her vile load into her diaper, huffing and grunting with every exertion.

Cherry could tell that she had wet her own diaper at some point in her drug-induced haze. She knew it wouldn’t be long until her bowels betrayed her dignity as well. And she had no idea when anyone would be around to change them.